


When Winter Comes, We Feed the Fire (WIP)

by Kingtoyourwarlock



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Braime - Freeform, Brienne - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I just love brienne so much and she deserves the world okay, d & d fucked her over so i'm here to make it right, fix it (kind of), jaime - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-05-13 12:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19251313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingtoyourwarlock/pseuds/Kingtoyourwarlock
Summary: Amidst the unrelenting, countless legion of the dead, which left Brienne almost suffocating from fear and need to keep going, he stood at her back. A surety almost as sure as the weight of the sword he had once gifted her. Oathkeeper. Within that warrior-berserker haze that overtook Brienne’s body when in battle, her sword was what kept her grounded, and now so had he.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, because - like everyone - I am also just so damn frustrated because of what they did to Brienne and Jaime in s8 of Game of Thrones, I needed to let out that frustration by writing some Briame fic :) It's become a lot smuttier than I thought it would be???? And it's also a lot longer XD 
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy!

There was silence, a deafening silence after a deafening battle. Brienne’s adrenaline levels were still high, she felt the warrior – the berserker – in her still, but the red haze slowly left her vision. Most of the battle was already gone from her memory. There were no specifics in terms of where or what she fought, only focal points that had focused her. It was often like that after battle. She remembered the flames going out one by one on the Dothraki swords, she remembered dragging Podrick to safety, but most of all she remembered _him_. Amidst the unrelenting, countless legion of the dead, which left Brienne almost suffocating from fear and need to keep going, he stood at her back. A surety almost as sure as the weight of the sword he had once gifted her. Oathkeeper. Within that warrior-berserker haze that overtook Brienne’s body when in battle, her sword was what kept her grounded, and now so had he.

Somewhere Brienne heard a bird sing as day broke around the devastation. Last night, no one would have expected to see daybreak again. And many would not. Pyres were already being built for those who had perished, and the legion of undead were being burned were they laid, now oh so still. Winterfell had been left surprisingly intact, the reparations that did need to be made could wait until later. No one had the energy to do anything but straggle along, looking for loved once to huddle close with. As the sun rose slowly Brienne made her way into the courtyard, struggling to stay dignified as adrenaline made way for exhaustion. She was not sure what to do now, this had been her first major battle, and now that it was over she had a strange empty feeling about it. It had been nothing like she thought it would be. It had been nothing like the stories of glorious battles she had read as a young girl. All it had been was destruction, confusion, blood, sweat, and fire. Brienne always thought that that was just her, that perhaps she never felt glorious as she hacked down the men that tried to take her down for who she was, because her entire existence was wrong. But now at least that fantasy of glory was gone from her mind, it was not real for anyone.

Brienne heaved a heavy sigh, feeling forlorn in the Winterfell courtyard, when she saw him approach her. ‘Ser Jaime,’ she managed in acknowledgement. He looked at her in that way that he sometimes would, a way that puzzled Brienne because it looked almost like amazement. ‘We are alive, Ser Brienne,’ Jaime stated matter-of-factly, a faint smile on his blood and mud covered face, exhaustion dripping from his voice. _Ser Brienne_ , it send a shiver up her spine. ‘What now?’ Brienne asked. ‘We tend to our wounds, our dead, we sleep, and then we feast,’ he answered her. ‘Just like that?’ ‘Yes, just like that.’

After checking for orders, and receiving none for the moment, Brienne send Podrick to take care of himself, and marched to her chambers trying to shake the feeling that there was more to be done for her. The fire had died, rendering the room icy cold. Methodically Brienne went about re-starting the fire and fetching water for her washing basin. The known, menial tasks calmed her nerves as she slowly loosened the armour from her bruised body, while waiting for her water to warm a little over the fire. Shivering a little as she shed her clothes, Brienne huddled her naked body in her furs, examining the cuts and bruises she had sustained. Her water now warm, Brienne poured it back into the basin and started going over her body with a wet cloth. Starting on her face, she carefully dabbed at the sensitive spot over her left eye-socket and cheekbone. She slowly worked her way down the rest of her long, strong body; already feeling the dull ache of her muscles. Brienne liked that ache, because it reminded her of what she was proud of: her strength. She may not be beautiful, or a lady, but none could deny her strength.

Brienne contemplated how she had been treated here at Winterfell since the preparations for the battle began. She had been weary at first, as everyone treated her as a person, as everyone seemed to value her. Most of all it had been the attentions from the wildling man that kept making eyes at her, that made Brienne weary. She had thought it was a farce, meant to embarrass her, but now she was fairly certain that Tormund Giantsbane was in earnest. Which possibly scared her even more. Nonetheless it was a strange sensation to be admired like that. And then there was Jaime. Ser Jaime. _The Kingslayer_. He was different too. After the meeting of powers at the Dragonpit, after she told him to face up to his responsibility, Brienne thought that she would never see the knight again. Yet again he surprised her, yet again he chose to take the more difficult route: her route. When he turned up in Winterfell and asked her if he could fight under _her_ command, she was convinced. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, is a good man. He was not like Renly had been, certainly Jaime had been both glorious and beautiful like him, but not good like Renly had been in Brienne’s eyes. Renly was more the knight from the fairytales. Jaime was known as an oathbreaker. As Brienne got to know Jaime, as they met throughout the years, she saw his glory and beauty recede through trauma. However, what grew was his heart and his goodness. Jaime Lannister became a new focal point in Brienne’s life. He became glorious in a new kind of way. A true kind of way.

After washing herself thoroughly Brienne added some wood to the fire and crawled into her comfortable bed. Surrounded by soft furs and warmth, a sudden wave of emotion overcame her, and Brienne let out an involuntary sob. She bundled up her blanket and furs around her and hugged it close, almost like hugging a warm, soft person. It gave some comfort, and soon Brienne’s heavy eyes closed shut for a few much needed hours.

At noon bells started tolling, waking Brienne with a start. Thankfully she had had a dreamless sleep. She was warm again. Her muscles were aching more than before, she stumbled out of bed and made it up nicely again. Next Brienne put some more wood on the fire and she put on some fresh clothes after washing her face. Just before leaving the room Brienne put one more block of wood on the fire for good measure. It was the first thing she had learned after coming to the North. Always put more wood on the fire before you go out. Just outside the North Gate were countless pyres set up. Bodies, upon bodies, upon bodies. There were too many now familiar faces, yet Brienne found it impossible to feel much of anything, other than a strange emptiness. She walked over to stand next to Jaime, the only place she wanted to stand. His face was cleaned up and he was wearing fresh clothes, just as Brienne. And, like Brienne, he was obviously tired. He nodded at her in acknowledgement. Solemnity hung heavy in the air.

Queen Daenerys and Lady Sansa paid their final respects to Ser Jorah and Theon Greyjoy, and finally Jon Snow spoke, to honour all those who had died for the cause of saving the world from the dead. His words were true. Then, one by one the funeral pyres were lit, and Brienne stood and watched having learned the true cost of war.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing good can come from drinking wine...*wink wink*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this fic is written already, so here's the second chapter, posted at the same time as the first :)

When afternoon changed to evening the remaining men and women made their way into the Great Hall for a feast. Although there seemed little reason for feasting, the hot food and drink was more welcome than anything. As soon as Brienne smelled the rich meets and stews her stomach started grumbling. She hadn’t noticed how hungry she really was. Ser Jaime and Podrick were once again her companions, as they had been before the battle had begun. It seemed to Brienne that this was as it would be from now on. It made her feel glad. Halfway through dinner Queen Daenerys broke the quiet. Jaime looked worried as the Queen spoke to Gendry Baratheon, and indeed it sounded as though she was trying to quarrel. However, she bestowed upon him the title of Lord of Storm’s End. It was surprising to all in attendance, but Brienne was happy for the young man. She shared a look with Jaime, who still seemed a little confused. It was true that Queen Daenerys’s future was in limbo, now that the dead were defeated. ‘She needs all the support she can get,’ Brienne whispered to Jaime. He looked up at her, surprised. ‘Right,’ he said.

With that the true feast began. The unending flow of wine and beer soon made for frivolous, and slightly rowdy, atmosphere. Brienne looked around her, wondering how all these men could muster such energy. Then from her peripheral she could see Jaime reach for the jug of wine on their table, and he tilted it towards her cup. Quickly Brienne placed her hand on top of the cup. No good things could come from drinking wine. As soon as her hand was reaching, so was his. A tender touch guided Brienne’s hand back away from her cup, and then Jaime did not let go for some time. Brienne’s heart started beating faster, her motions became stiff. She was uncomfortable with the familiarity, but at the same time she wanted it to last. Jaime spoke to her in a soft voice, but evading her eyes: ‘We fought dead things and live to talk about it. If now isn’t the time to drink, when is?’ He let go of her hand and picked up the jug of wine again, filling Brienne’s cup to the brim. She could not keep her eyes off him. And as Jaime lifted his cup to hers, and looked at her with that awed, soft look in his green eyes, she once again felt that complicated pang of emotion. As Brienne took a sip from the strong red wine, she felt a warmth spreading in her chest and stomach. Wine here wasn’t as sweet as it was in the South, but she did not mind.

‘I actually can’t believe we’re alive,’ Podrick said, gulping down his cup. Brienne thought of saying something about the drinking, but thought the better of it. Like Jaime had said, if not now, when? ‘This was my first true battle,’ Brienne said after another sip. ‘Was it really?’ Jaime questioned. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, was it everything you thought it would be?’

Brienne cocked an eyebrow at his tone. ‘I thought we had stopped doing that,’ she said. ‘Doing what?’ Jaime replied innocently, emptying his cup. She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. ‘It was nothing like I thought it would be, but I guess I expected that.’   
‘How so?’ Jaime asked, serious again. ‘Well,’ Brienne answered, ‘although I had not seen major battle before, I have fought once or twice, as you may remember.’ Jaime smiled at her. ‘As a child I always read about battles that were described as being these glorious things. You see paintings of beautiful men, with the sun reflecting off their gold armour, riding into battle without fear. But in reality it is blood, confusion, and destruction. There is nothing glorious about it.’

Jaime filled Brienne’s cup for a second time. ‘Renly was that dream for you,’ he stated matter-of-factly. He knew her. ‘It used to be glorious for me. I was that knight in shining, gold armour. Sure there was a lot of blood, and destruction, but somehow it didn’t seem to touch me. That was, until everything changed because a certain someone became my captor.’

Brienne looked down. ‘I can’t help but think that I have become a better man because of it’ he answered her look, his eyes tender again. ‘Things are more difficult, but my character was failing in many ways I am sure you are aware of.’ Brienne felt the urge to reach out to him, but instead she took a deep gulp from her cup; feeling the warmth spread, and her head become both light and heavy at the same time.

Suddenly Tormund shouted: ‘To the dragon queen!’ and everyone lifted their cup. Brienne was happy with the distraction; she raised her cup, perhaps a little too excitedly. Her limbs were feeling funny, and her smiles came more easily. Next the queen toasted to Arya, hero of Winterfell, another big gulp of wine went in.

When everyone sat back down, Tyrion made his way over to their table. He sat down and made sure everyone’s cup was filled again. ‘I propose a game,’ he said, looking sideways at his brother. There was something mischievous in his look, but Brienne felt too giddy to truly notice. ‘What is this game?’ asked Jaime. ‘This game will get us all well and truly fucked. It is a game in which we make statements about each other, and if the statements are true, you have to drink.’  ‘Yes!’ Exclaimed Podrick. ‘Ser Brienne?’ asked Tyrion, waiting for her approval. Brienne felt strangely brave, but also silly. She felt that she was on her way to being drunk, yet she felt that she could do nothing about it. She continued smiling, her elbows propped on the table, forgetting all manners. ‘Alright, I’m in,’ she said.

                                                                      

* * *

 

 

Tyrion smiled wickedly. ‘Podrick!’ he said, causing the squire to choke on his wine. Brienne laughed, and pounded his back. She saw Jaime look at her again as he leaned across the table, shoulder to shoulder with his brother. ‘Podrick, you enjoy squiring for Ser Brienne better than squiring for me,’ Tyrion stated. Podrick, having caught his breath emptied his cup. ‘That is hurtful,’ Tyrion said mockingly as he filled Podrick’s cup again.  ‘Your turn,’ he then told Jaime. Brienne bit her lip, her eyes were wide and mischievous, and her face felt not like hers but rather like that of someone who social interaction came easy to. She tried to keep herself upright by leaning on the table, rather closely to Jaime. ‘Uuuh,’ started Jaime. He pointed at Brienne. ‘You are an only child.’ Tyrion drunkenly sloped against his brother’s side and pouted his lips at Brienne. Trying her hardest to control her voice and mien Brienne answered: ‘I told you I was,’ she couldn’t believe he had forgotten. ‘You didn’t,’ Jaime rebutted. ‘I _did_ ,’ said Brienne, scoffing at his cheating ways, leaning back from Jaime. ‘I surmised,’ Jaime said. To which Tyrion added a commanding ‘drink’. Brienne scoffed but drank deeply nonetheless.

‘Go again,’ the imp told Jaime. ‘Why does he get to go again?’ Brienne questioned. Who made up these arbitrary rules? ‘Because it’s my game,’ was her answer. Jaime smiled at her. ‘You have danced with Renly Baratheon.’  Brienne looked sideways at her traitor of a squire, but he only shrugged at her. Brienne realised the odds were stacked against her in this game. They wanted her drunk. She also knew she was already most of the way there, and having too much fun to give in to worries. ‘Drink,’ Tyrion commanded again. And so she drank, while looking at Jaime’s emerald eyes.

Again and again statements were fired at Brienne, sometimes they were wrong, but mostly she drank. She lost count of the amount of wine she had had, and her mind swam pleasantly. She smiled and laughed as she sat close to Podrick, Tyrion and Jaime, and as she made them drink in retaliation their comradery grew tighter.  

Then, Tyrion just had to ruin it. She waited in anticipation for his assumption, as she had just made one that was wrong about him. A goofy smile was spread across her face as she leaned quite drunkenly onto the table. Tyrion said, seriously: ‘You’re a virgin.’

As though it had been a smack in the face, Brienne was sober again. Her smile disappeared as she felt that familiar pang of humiliation. How could she ever have thought that she could be respected. Of course she wouldn’t be. In the end, what was she but a woman? What was she but tits and arse? She glanced at Jaime, who’s smile had also faded. He looked uncertain. ‘That’s not a statement about the present,’ he told his brother. Tyrion continued: ‘At no point in the past, up until this very moment have you slept with a man. Or a woman.’

Brienne stood up from the bench. She’d had quite enough. ‘I have to piss,’ she said slowly and clearly to the insolent imp, who did not have quite enough courtesy to look ashamed of himself.

Before she could take her leave, Brienne’s exit was interrupted by the tiresome wildling. ‘We did it! We faced those icy fucks!’ He walked up to her until his was at an uncomfortably close distance. ‘Looked right into their blue eyes, and here we are.’ He sighed and looked at Brienne longingly. ‘Now,’ he proceeded. ‘Which one of you cowards shit in my pants?’ He let out a roaring laugh. _Was this his idea of humour?_ Brienne thought to herself. ‘Please pardon me for a moment,’ she told her company, remembering her courtesies as she finally slipped away from their humiliation of her.

As she looked back she saw Jaime stand in front of Tormund. He stopped him and then turned to follow Brienne. The cold air cleared her head a little more. _No good can come from drinking wine_ , she remembered. Why would Tyrion make such a statement? Why was he intent on making her feel embarrassed? Who was he to judge her, to expose her virginity? Of course Brienne was a virgin! She had guarded herself well enough from the countless men that intended to rape her. The men who tried to break her down so that she would submit. If not rape, how would she, _Brienne the Beauty_ , have slept with anyone for love. The only one who seemed to want that was Tormund Giantsbane. Brienne shook her head to get the thought out of her head.

What was Jaime thinking of her? She turned her head a little towards the sound of his uneven, distant footsteps. He was still following her. Her heart beat a little faster, and her breath came more difficultly. _Stop this folly_ , she told herself. Why am I reacting like this? He is only going to mock me more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Smut coming up ;) have fun!

As Brienne entered her chamber, she took off her leather overcoat and put some more wood on the fire. It was nice and warm in the room, the way she liked it to be. She wondered if Jaime was still following. Maybe he had fallen over from drunken-ness she scoffed. As she got up from feeding the fire, Brienne heard an uneven knock on her door. _Ah, there he is_ , she thought, annoyed.

She opened the door to Jaime, leaning against the wall, his face soft. He looked strangely vulnerable to her. ‘You didn’t drink,’ he said as he pushed himself past Brienne, into her chambers. She felt a nervousness rise in her chest. She had never had a man in her room before. Jaime went about putting cups on the table. Brienne asked uncertainly: ‘I didn’t drink?’ ‘In the game,’ he replied. ‘I drank,’ Brienne argued. What was he doing? She felt annoyed, and had half a mind to kick him out. ‘In the game,’ Jaime insisted again, ‘this is Dornish,’ he lifted the jug of wine. _What is going on?_ Brienne thought. _He is acting strange._ ‘This is not a game,’ she said sternly. She felt the Lannister was playing at something, but it was no fun. ‘This is only drinking.’ She wanted no more statements, no more questions. ‘Suit yourself,’ Jaime said as he handed Brienne her cup. She could not stop her mind from reeling. _What is happening? What is he doing? Why is he here?_

With a furrowed brow she looked into his green eyes. They still looked so soft, but there was a determined edge about them. She looked away as she drank from her cup. When the wine was gone she looked at Jaime’s face again, it had that awed look again. _What does that mean?_ He quickly looked away. He looked at the fire and let out a deep breath. ‘You keep it warm enough in here,’ he said as he walked to the other side of the room, taking off his leather jacket.

Brienne put down her cup. ‘It’s the first thing I learned when I came to the North: keep a fire going; every time you leave the room, put more wood on.’ She looked at Jaime as he struggled with getting the cuff of his right sleeve over the gold hand. She stood at a distance, her voice came out more quietly as she tried to figure out the meaning of the situation. ‘Well, that’s very diligent, very responsible,’ the knight answered. His voice had grown somewhat petulant. ‘Piss off,’ what Brienne’s reply. She was about done with this charade of his. ‘You know the first thing I learned in the North?’ Jaime continued in the same voice, as he strode over to Brienne. ‘I hate the fucking North.’ He now stood within arms-reach. Brienne tried her best to meet his gaze, to extend her posture. ‘It grows on you,’ she said softly. Jaime looked her up and down, mockingly. ‘I don’t want things growing on me,’ he said as he walked away from her again.

As he poured himself another drink, he asked: ‘How about Tormund Giantsbane? Has he _grown_ on you?’ Brienne cocked her head in annoyance and wonder. Was he serious? This talk of _growing_ sure made him sound jealous. Was he jealous? Did he think that she wanted Tormund?

 

 

Oh.

 

 

_Oh._

 

 

Brienne came to a sudden realisation. He _was_ jealous.

‘He was very sad when you left,’ he said, trying to sound sure of himself. Brienne’s voice became almost a whisper. She did not know where she found the confidence, but she said: ‘You sound quite jealous.’

Jaime nodded, avoiding her eyes. He seemed to have the same realisation as Brienne. ‘I do, don’t I?’ he asked quietly.

His gaze drifted back to Brienne’s large blue eyes. He seemed panicked as she looked back at him, quietly.

‘It’s bloody hot in here,’ Jaime declared as he laughed nervously and started tugging at the knots of his shirt. Brienne looked at his struggling fingers in silence. Her brow furrowed, he mind reeling still.

 

 

 

And then suddenly she stopped. Her eyes grew wider. She had decided.

 

 

 

‘Oh, move aside,’ she said as she slapped Jaime’s clumsy hand away from his shirt. He looked positively alarmed. Brienne pulled him closer to her by his shirt’s laces, only a breath apart. She started undoing the knots quickly, not looking Jaime in the eyes. That, she couldn’t handle. She might cower in fear if she did that.

Jaime lifted his hands, both his left and right, to Brienne’s collar, as he now tried to undo her knots. ‘What are you doing?’ She asked, daring to look at his face. He looked nervous, perhaps more so than her. Or perhaps he just had a harder time hiding it because of the wine. ‘I’m taking your shirt off,’ he whispered back.

Brienne took his hands. The left felt warm, the right felt cold. She tried to convey through her eyes both her nerves and her surety. She was scared, but she had decided. As Jaime looked upon her, emerald into sapphire, like looking at a goddess, her decision became more fixed in her mind. And she knew that it was not because no man had ever looked at her the way Jaime Lannister looked at her, it was not because no man had ever fought beside her the way he had. It was because she wanted him, and because she loved him.

She started unlacing her own shirt. She could not have endured the time it would have taken Jaime to do it. All the while he kept his eyes to hers. Transfixed as by a spell.

He seemed most innocent as he furrowed his brow, and continued to stare up at her with his mouth slightly open. When Brienne took his shirt out of his breeches and pulled it over his head and arms, she grew more confident in the quiet, sizzling air that surrounded them.

Jaime looked lean and muscular, with a splash of dark blond hair across his chest. There were some old scars, and some new bruises splattered across his torso, and he looked glorious. Yet it was his face that Brienne could not take her eyes away from. His look calmed her. It ensured her that she was safe with him, that she was more to him than a prize to be won. She took off her shirt, bearing herself to him. Yet Jaime’s gaze did not stray from Brienne’s eyes.

 

‘I’ve never slept with a knight before,’ he whispered to her.

‘I never slept with anyone before,’ she whispered back.

 

‘Then you have to drink,’ Jaime said. ‘Those are the rules.’

 

Exasperated she breathed: ‘I told you – ,’ but she was cut off by Jaime, who suddenly reached up to her and crushed his mouth to hers in a deep, violent kiss. She kissed him back hungrily, all previous irritation forgotten as his fingers raked through her hair and his kiss made her feel light headed. Brienne touched her fingers to Jaime’s soft salt and pepper beard, trying to slow him down a bit. He got the hint and he lowered himself off of his tip-toes and touched his gold hand to Brienne’s waist. The cold hand against her skin made her shiver, but she put her own hand on top of it to keep it there.

They continued to kiss deeply for some time until Brienne broke the kiss to look at Jaime’s face clasped between her hands. He looked quite the mess. His hear was ruffled and his eyes seemed to have lost the ability to focus. It made Brienne smile and bite her lips. ‘What?’ Jaime asked, uncertain. ‘I thought we could sit down for a moment, slow down?’ Brienne suggested. She was sure she had some idea of what came next, but she felt nerves rise up again. Jaime seemed to regain his head at that. He sat down on one of the chairs situated at the table. Brienne brought him back to standing. ‘Not there. On the bed,’ she whispered as she led him by the hand. Standing beside the bed Brienne looked at Jaime, took a deep breath and undid her breeches. Jaime’s eyes grew wide. ‘I thought we were slowing down,’ he said quietly. ‘We are, but as you said, it is bloody hot in here,’ Brienne answered.

Jaime nodded, and Brienne opened the fastening on Jaime’s breeches for him. They both stepped out of their remaining clothes, and now for the first time she saw Jaime take a long look at her body. Brienne blushed scarlet, but she kept her arms from covering herself. He had seen her before, at Harrenhal, but he had not been interested then. Something he had been clear about at that time. But then again, she had not been interested either. Now things were different. ‘You’re beautiful,’ Jaime whispered in a broken voice. Brienne took a daring look at Jaime and answered: ‘So are you.’ Jaime reached with his left hand towards the golden prosthetic and twisted it off to reveal his stumped wrist. ‘I –,’ he started, looking down. Brienne took his right arm and kissed the inside of his wrist and caressed his face. They smiled shyly at each other and climbed onto the bed. Jaime pulled Brienne close and she rested her head on his chest, their legs intertwining. Tentatively he started stroking the length of Brienne’s body; from her shoulder, over her arms, her waist, to her buttocks. The soft caress raised gooseflesh on Brienne’s arms and she buried her face into Jaime’s chest-hair, taking in his comforting scent. Spurred on by her reaction Jaime became more intent and lightly pinched Brienne’s pale behind. She chuckled and reached up to kiss her knight. Jaime deftly turned Brienne onto her back and half covered her with his own body, leaning on his right elbow for support as his right hand moved to caress even more of her body. Brienne’s breath came out faster, her heart seemed to fly right out of her chest.

‘Is this alright?’ Jaime asked, his voice a whisper, his eyes intense. Brienne bit her lip and nodded. She felt a wetness between her legs as Jaime gently touched her breasts and inched closer and closer to where she wanted him to go. Intermittently he would kiss her slowly, maddeningly, and Brienne could feel his manhood grow and harden against her thigh. She wanted nothing but to touch him back, so breaking their kiss the strong woman grabbed Jaime by the waist and laid him down on his back. Jaime let out a breath in surprise as Brienne pinned him down and let her hands roam across his hard nipples, his abdominals, and finally the curly pubic hair surrounding the object of her desire. Brienne looked at Jaime, gauging his response. His eyes were wide, his breath came out raggedly, and his lips were parted. Slowly, and with nerves raging in her stomach and chest, Brienne reached to carefully touch his manhood. Without thought she started stroking, which earned her a deep, guttural moan from the man she now had at her command. She smiled at herself, rather proudly.

Awkwardly Jaime tried to reach over to Brienne’s wetness with his left hand. Sensing his intention, Brienne straddled Jaime’s legs, giving him easier range. Confidently Jaime’s middle- and pointer- fingers touched the wetness at the entrance, and then moved back up to move in circles that made Brienne’s breath hitch, and her hips buck forward. She leaned down to kiss Jaime again, still stroking him, his hips meeting her every stroke.

Another moan escaped Jaime’s lips and he suddenly broke away from their kiss, putting his hand on Brienne’s where she had been touching him. ‘If you keep going like that I won’t last much longer I’m afraid,’ he said, his voice coming out raggedly, almost a growl. ‘I want you,’ Brienne answered desperately. ‘Lie on your back,’ Jaime told her. Brienne got off Jaime’s legs and laid back down, she felt strangely vulnerable in this position, but she still wanted him so badly. Jaime kissed her, making her relax more. He held his face close to hers. ‘Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.’ ‘You won’t,’ she answered, caressing his face.

Slowly Jaime inched one finger inside of her. It felt strange, but not uncomfortable. He licked another finger and added that to the first, slowly moving them in and out. The second finger felt tighter, but better. Brienne closed her eyes and tried to lean into the touch. After a while Jaime’s face was close to hers again; she could feel his beard tickle her face, and she kissed him deeply. Ever so slowly, almost excruciatingly so, fingers were replaced by something else. Jaime moved his member across Brienne’s entrance, making her shudder, all the while he watched her intently. Brienne squirmed, and with her legs around Jaime’s waist she pushed herself closer to him. Jaime understood the hint and carefully entered her, finally.

Brienne let out a deep moan as her knight filled her up. ‘Am I hurting you?’ he asked. Brienne shook her head, ‘No, please. Don’t stop.’ With Brienne’s encouragement, Jaime started thrusting into her smoothly, and languidly. Her moans were stifled by frequent kisses, her mouth filled with Jaime’s answering moans. She never thought it would be like this. She had always thought it would be strange, feel alien. But this felt like the most natural thing to her; as though their bodies were moving in unison, doing what they were truly meant to do. Not to fight, but to love. She pulled Jaime in closer, crushing his chest to hers, wanting to feel his full weight on top of her.

Brienne didn’t know how long they moved like this, but after a while Jaime grabbed one of her hands and guided it in between her own legs. ‘What –,’ she questioned, quite unable to form full sentences. Jaime slowed his thrusts somewhat. ‘Remember what I was doing with my fingers? The rubbing? I need you to do that to yourself,’ he ordered her. ‘Why?’ Brienne asked, confused. ‘You’ll know,’ Jaime answered her, after which he shut her up with another kiss.

Compliant Brienne started rubbing the little nub at the top of her entrance. Softly at first, but with more intent and speed as she felt wave after shuddering wave of pleasure from the stimulation of both Jaime’s cock inside of her, and her fingers rubbing away. ‘That’s it,’ Jaime said hoarsely as his own thrusts became more desperate. Brienne felt a heat rise inside of her, and the shudders became more erratic. She wrapped both hands around Jaime’s back and met his every thrust, until a final uncontrollable wave of ecstasy went through her entire body, leaving her panting and slack. She almost sobbed as Jaime kissed her neck and moaned more desperately, until he too reached his shuddering climax.

As Jaime pulled out of her, he kissed Brienne everywhere in homage. As he rolled off of her Brienne stretched her long limbs, shuddering again. She then rolled over to lie parallel to Jaime and she kissed his chest. They drifted off to sleep next to each other, Jaime’s hand lazily combing through Brienne’s white blond hair. Her body and mind had never felt more calm. But she felt tired too, from the tense drinking game, the build-up, the nerves. She wondered what would happen in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all sufficiently cooled down from that spicy love-making, written by a demisexual virgin xD Here's part 4!

Brienne woke with a start from a deep sleep. She smiled to herself and turned around to find a lot of empty space. Dismayed she looked around the room for Jaime, but he was nowhere to be found. Her eyes started stinging as her mind started worrying. Perhaps he was ashamed, or perhaps he regretted their night? Brienne noticed that despite her nudity she wasn’t cold, she walked over to the fireplace where a healthy fire was keeping the room pleasantly warm. Worry made way for tenderness, and Brienne felt strangely emotional. He had left, but he had kept her warm.

She sat down at her table, wrapped in her soft furs. The two cups and the pitcher of wine – still half filled – were still there. Brienne noticed a folded note sticking out of the cups, she smiled to herself and opened it. It read:

 

Ser Brienne,

I am sorry you are waking up without me next to you. Trust me, it was hard to leave. However, I figured that it may not be in your best interest to be seen exiting your chambers with the Kingslayer still wearing what he wore yesterday. I would not want people to question your honour, or mine for that matter.

It should be warm when you wake, I remember what you said about adding wood to the fire.  

– Jaime

 

Brienne sighed and folded the note close again. It warmed her heart that he worried for her honour, but wished he had stayed nonetheless.

              Slowly Brienne went about washing herself, she lingered at the places he had lingered. Her body felt different, she felt a different appreciation for it. It was now not only strong and tall, but also beautiful, to a degree. At least it seemed to her that Jaime saw it that way. The way he had kissed her shoulders, remarking upon her freckles with amusement. The way he had touched the slope of her breasts. The way he had made waves of pleasure… She shook her head. She was getting carried away. Besides, her stomach started growling, so the tall knight dressed herself quickly in simple breeches, a blue shirt, and furs.

Before she went outside she threw a few more blocks of wood onto the fire.

It was cold outside her warm chambers, but Brienne needed to eat, so she walked briskly towards the Great Hall for breakfast. From her periphery she noticed someone walk up to her with great intent. As she looked over she saw a clean and neat looking Jaime Lannister stride towards her, his face a little awkward as he fell into step with her. ‘Ser Jaime,’ Brienne said in her crisp voice. ‘Ser Brienne,’ he answered. After a short, unbearable, silence Brienne gently touched her shoulder to Jaime’s and said quietly: ‘I missed you when I woke up.’ She felt her face go red as she tried to ignore Jaime’s giddy smile next to her.

As they walked into the Great Hall, Brienne was pleased not to see either Podrick or Tyrion there. She suspected that they were still drunk. She was not in the mood for their jesting. Quietly and calmly the two knights broke fast on some bread and sweet-meats, which was exactly what Brienne had been craving. When they were done Brienne was called up to the high table by Lady Sansa. ‘My Lady,’ she said with a short bow. ‘Ser Brienne, we are having a council to discuss what our next moves are going to be regarding Cersei. I want you there,’ Lady Sansa told her, whilst Queen Daenerys eyed here suspiciously. ‘Can you come to my chambers after breakfast?’ Brienne smiled uncertainly at Lady Sansa, ‘Of course, my lady.’     

Upon walking back towards Jaime she saw, to her dismay, that their companions had managed to crawl out of their holes. Although, Podrick’s head was slumped on the table. Jaime looked up at Brienne nervously as she approached. ‘Is he alright?’ she asked Tyrion, indicating towards Podrick. Tyrion groaned in response, his own head undoubtedly still pounding. ‘What did Lady Sansa need?’ Jaime asked. ‘She wants me to sit at the council after breakfast,’ Brienne responded, sitting back down next to him. Jaime looked down, suddenly very interested in his breakfast. Brienne frowned, but decided against questioning Jaime in front of his brother.

‘So,’ Tyrion started. ‘The two of you seem very fresh, considering how much you both drank last evening.’ ‘Some of us can hold our wine, dear brother,’ answered Jaime mockingly, as he pushed his leg against Brienne’s. Tyrion cocked an eyebrow. ‘I hope you are not too cross with me, Lady Brienne, I remember you storming off quite perturbed.’ Brienne felt blood rush to her cheeks. ‘I am fine, Lord Tyrion,’ she said, trying to sound as unbothered as she possibly could. Tyrion smirked. Brienne got scared. ‘I was looking for you last night, Jaime. Except, you were nowhere in your chambers.’ Jaime grew very still next to Brienne, and her heart started pounding. Even Podrick picked his head up from the table. ‘Last I saw of you, you followed Lady Brienne outside,’ Tyrion continued. From the corner of her eye Brienne saw Lady Sansa get up, she let out a breath in relief. ‘Excuse me,’ she said pointedly at Tyrion. ‘Lady Sansa needs me.’


	5. Chapter 5

Brienne knocked on Lady Sansa’s door, waiting to be let in. ‘Come in,’ Sansa’s brisk voice answered. There was nothing left of the girl Brienne had first met. Experience and circumstance had changed Sansa into an intelligent, but severe young woman. Brienne could only admire the auburn-haired Lady for her strength. ‘Sit down, Ser Brienne,’ Sansa motioned at the second chair at her small table, as Brienne came in. ‘Did you wish to discuss the upcoming council, my lady?’

‘No, Brienne, I wanted to discuss something rather more sensitive.’ Brienne was confused. What did she mean? What was more sensitive than the upcoming war with Queen Cersei? Sansa read her silence as compliance. ‘Last night, during the celebrations I noticed you were sitting with Jaime, and Tyrion Lannister. And then I noticed you walking away, seeming upset. What happened?’ Brienne tried to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. Why was everyone suddenly noticing her? ‘It was nothing, my lady. Just some unfortunate, drunken, squabbling.’ ‘You don’t strike me as someone who would drink up to the point of drunken-ness, Ser.’

Brienne blushed, for what felt like the hundredth time in a day. ‘I’m not,’ she responded, ‘usually.’ Sansa pressed on. ‘When you walked off I also saw Jaime Lannister follow you. Did he come to your chambers?’ Brienne looked at Sansa, her eyes wide. Was she accusing her of something? ‘Lady Sansa, I don’t know what – ’ Sansa interrupted her: ‘A drunk man can be a dangerous thing, even for a woman as strong as you,’ she put her hand on Brienne’s, her eyes full of concern. She thought Jaime had hurt her? Brienne let out a hysterical laugh. Sansa’s eyes flashed in irritation. ‘I’m sorry, but how is this amusing to you?’ ‘No,’ Brienne answered. ‘No, I’m sorry. My lady. Ser Jaime did not hurt me. Trust me.’ She smiled a small smile and avoided Sansa’s eyes. ‘Then why did he follow you? And why was he never seen entering his own chambers?’ Sansa asked suspiciously.

Then, as soon as she stopped talking, realisation dawned on her beautiful face. ‘Oh,’ she said, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘He stayed with you. In your bed. With your consent.’ Brienne nodded, her face felt as hot as the flames in her hearth, her instincts told her to run for the exit. But she stayed in her seat, ready for Lady Sansa’s judgement. ‘Do you love him?’ Sansa asked. ‘I do,’ Brienne answered quietly. ‘You know what people say about him. And his sister?’ Sansa asked hesitantly. ‘I do,’ answered Brienne again. Sansa nodded.

‘He armed and armoured me, my lady,’ Brienne started. ‘He respects me, both as a knight and a woman. He has trusted me with his secrets, and he has been honourable. He chose to follow me, when it would have been easier to have stayed with _her_. He fought by my side when I thought we would die for certain. And then we didn’t die. And then he was jealous of the wildling man,’ Brienne let out of chuckle. ‘No man has ever been jealous on my behalf, Lady Sansa.’ Sansa chuckled in response. She smiled a gentle smile at her usually intimidating sworn sword. ‘I am happy for you, if you are happy, Brienne.’

 

* * *

 

 

The council room was filled with a heavy, tense feeling that engulfed Brienne as she walked in behind Lady Sansa, her hands behind her perfectly straight back. In the room were Queen Daenerys, Jon Snow, Lord Tyrion, Grey Worm, Varys, Arya Stark, Bran Stark, Ser Davos, Missandei, an Arryn man, and a Dothraki man. It was crowded around the Winterfell’s own Painted Table.   
             

‘How many Unsullied have we lost?’ the Queen asked. ‘Half are gone,’ Grey Worm answered, as he took some of the pieces off of the map. ‘The North men as well,’ Jon Snow added, taking more pieces off the map. The Arryn men took more pieces, as did the Dothraki. ‘And the Golden Company has arrived in King’s Landing,’ spoke Varys, adding a piece. ‘Courtesy of the Greyjoy fleet. The Balance has grown distressingly even.’ Queen Daenerys closed her eyes in frustration. ‘When the people find out what we have done for them, how we saved them…’ spoke Missandei. ‘Cersei will make sure they don’t believe it,’ the Queen answered bitterly. ‘We will hit her hard. We’ll rip her out, root and stem.’ Tyrion reminded her: ‘The objective here is to remove Cersei, without destroying King’s Landing.’ The Queen’s answering look was one of disdain. It worried Brienne, but she chose to stay quiet, as she was almost frightened of the strange look the young queen had had in her eyes lately.

‘Thankfully, she is losing allies by the day,’ Varys tried, soothingly. ‘Yara Greyjoy has re-taken the Iron Islands in the queen’s name; the new prince of Dorne pledges his support – ‘ Daenerys interrupted: ‘No matter how many lords turn against her, as long as she sits on the Iron Throne, she can call herself queen of the Seven Kingdoms. We need the capital,’ she said as she looked almost hungrily at the place on the map that represented King’s Landing. ‘I watched the people of King’s Landing rebel against their king when they were hungry and that was before winter began,’ said Tyrion. ‘Give them the opportunity, and they will cast Cersei aside.’

‘We’ll surround the city,’ said Jon Snow. ‘If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we’ll defeat them in the field.’ He sounded quite sure, Brienne thought. She wondered how much of it was farce. ‘Once the people see that Cersei is our only enemy, her reign is over,’ Tyrion added. A small smile had formed itself onto the Queen’s lips as she stared gently towards Jon Snow. They had calmed her down. ‘Alright,’ she said quietly.

Then, Lady Sansa interjected: ‘The men we have left are exhausted.’ The look of irritation was instantly back on the Queen’s face. ‘Many of them are wounded. They’ll fight better if they’ve had time to rest and recuperate.’ ‘How long do you suggest?’ the Queen asked in a calm voice that made the short hairs on Brienne’s neck stand up. ‘Can’t say for certain,’ Lady Sansa responded, unfazed. ‘Not without talking to the officers.’

‘I came North to fight alongside you,’ Queen Daenerys said icily. ‘At great cost of my armies, and myself. Now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to postpone?’

‘It’s not just our people; it’s yours,’ Lady Sansa answered. ‘You want to throw them into a war they’re not _ready_ to fight?’ ‘The longer I leave my enemies alone, the stronger they become,’ said the Queen.

Jon Snow broke the tension, looking at Lady Sansa: ‘The Northern forces will honour their promises, and their allegiance, to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. His sentence ended in barely a whisper. He turned to his Queen: ‘What you command, we will obey.’ She smiled at his testimony.

‘So,’ said Tyrion. ‘If all are in agreement, Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the King’s Road with the Northern troops and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied.’ Jon moved the pieces into place. Tyrion continued: ‘A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbour, and sail from there to Dragonstone. With our Queen and the dragons accompanying us from above.’ He paused briefly, and then continued: ‘Ser Jaime has chosen to remain her, as a guest of the Lady of Winterfell.’

Brienne looked up, trying not to show her surprise. Her eyes met Sansa’s, who smiled a secret smile at her. _He was staying with her?_ She could hardly believe it. Butterflies ran rampant in her stomach, and she could barely contain her smile.

With a last promise of victory from the Queen, the council was dismissed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter! I'm currently working on what I think will be one of the last chapters, and then I'll do a chapter that is kind of snippets of all events, but from Jaime's perspective. Idk... Anywayyy Enjoy!!!!

Brienne turned to Lady Sansa as soon as they exited the council room. ‘Am I dismissed, my lady? Or do you need me?’ Sansa smiled: ‘You are dismissed for today, Ser Brienne.’

              Brienne walked out into the brisk, Winterfell air, and went in search for her knight. He was not on the training fields, he was not in the  great hall. Finally she walked to where she knew his chambers to be. Without knocking she swung open the door. ‘Brienne?’ asked Jaime. But before he could get any more words out, Brienne pushed him up against the nearest wall, grabbed his face between her hands, and kissed him passionately. Jaime kissed back eagerly, letting out appreciative moans. As they came up for breath he asked, panting, and laughing: ‘What is this for?’

              Brienne leaned her forehead against Jaime’s, and whispered, her voice thick with emotion: ‘You’re staying. You’re staying with me.’ Jaime stood on his toes to meet her lips, and gave her a chaste kiss. ‘You’re important here, Lady Sansa needs you.’ He kissed her again. ‘And _I_ need you.’ Brienne stepped back and undid the clasps on her armour, taking it off, piece by piece. Jaime took off his golden hand, and untied the knots of his shirt. His hands steadier now.

              Soon they stood opposite each other, naked as on their name-day. Brienne was breathing hard from want. She had an idea, but she was nervous. However, nervousness never stopped Brienne of Tarth. She turned Jaime around and walked him towards the bed, sitting him down on the edge. His eyes were wide again. Brienne would have to ask him about that look later, but there was no time for that now. She knelt between Jaime’s legs and pushed them apart. ‘Brienne…’ he breathed out, this voice thick with surprise and arousal. ‘Shhh,’ she shushed him. With sure hands she held his member by the base, and took it into her mouth. Jaime gave her a whimper in response, and locked his hands in her blond hair in the most delicious way.

              As his breathing came faster, and more desperately, Jaime lifted Brienne up to him and kissed her hard. He pushed her down onto the bed and crawled off it himself. ‘My turn,’ he growled, as he took his own position in-between Brienne’s long legs. Feeling Jaime’s tongue on her made Brienne instantly gasp. ‘How did you think to do that to me,’ Jaime murmured, the words teasing Brienne as she longed for Jaime’s mouth to stop talking and continue at the task at hand. ‘It’s been suggested to me often, by lesser men,’ she panted helplessly, her hands now in Jaime’s hair.

That delicious shudder moved through her body, as Jaime kept her hips grounded. He darted his tongue around the nub he had taught her to touch, and his fingers moved in and out of her, making her squirm. ‘Jaime,’ she moaned, devastated, devoid of a working mind. Then, as she almost reached her peak, he stopped. ‘No,’ she sobbed. But instead the insolent man let himself fall on the bed beside her, panting heavily. ‘We have plenty of time,’ he chuckled, as he moved over to kiss her. Brienne could taste herself on his mouth, and relished in the thought. She could feel a throbbing down-below, making her feel delirious with lust. ‘Move further onto the bed,’ she commanded, and Jaime obeyed eagerly. He sat against the pillows, his hair a mess, his prick at full attention.

Less than graceful, Brienne crawled towards Jaime, finally straddling him. She bend down to kiss him. Her position allowed her to feel Jaime’s cock press against her, making the throbbing more insistent. His left hand found her breasts, and his right arm wrapped around her waist.

Brienne guided Jaime into her, and lowered herself down with a contented sigh, which was met with a deep moan from him. As she started moving her hips, Brienne threw her head back in pleasure. Jaime sat up, his arms around his love, and licked Brienne from her clavicle to her chin. There he worked his way to the side of her neck, where he left a love-bite. Then he moved his head to rest against Brienne’s breasts, which he peppered with more kisses.

Their hips moved in unison; the sounds of their breathing, moaning, and the soft squeaking of the bed, filled the room with the soft symphony of their love.

                                                              

* * *

 

 

This time, their love-making had lasted longer than the first time – unbothered by alcohol, or nerves. They had finished together, laying on their sides, Jaime lazily moving in and out of Brienne as his body was wrapped around hers. His left hand gently grasped at her breasts – he seemed to like those – his mouth was constantly at her throat. When they were done they stayed in that position, breathing quietly, eyes closed, revelling in comfort.

              After a short sleep, the two lovers woke up facing one another. Brienne’s cheeks flushed as Jaime gave her _that_ look again. Brienne whispered: ‘Why do you always look at me like that?’ ‘Like what?’ he responded. Brienne paused. What was it exactly, that look?

‘Like… Like you’re in awe of me. Like you’ve never seen anything like me before.’ Jaime wrapped his arms around Brienne, his intense, green eyes meeting her sapphire blues. ‘I _am_ in awe of you,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘For so long, everything was dark in my life. I was a pariah all across the Seven Kingdoms, my sister…,’ he trailed off. Brienne pushed her hands through his hair reassuringly. She had no illusions about his past, she knew everything, she accepted it.

Jaime frowned, and he looked away from Brienne. His look worried her, as his looks sometimes would. ‘My children have all died,’ he continued, his eyes brimming with wetness. They were quiet for a while, just breathing beside each other. Silent tears escaped Jaime’s eyes, and Brienne wiped them away.

‘But you…,’ he finally continued, his voice more controlled. ‘You are so _light_ , so _good_. You are uncorrupted, honourable, beautiful. You are the knight I was supposed to be.’ He moved closer to kiss Brienne sweetly, his lips a little salty from his tears.

A little smile played on his lips. ‘Every time I saw you, before I came here, you lifted my heart. And then I followed you here, and saw that _infernal_ wildling trailing you with heart-eyes…’ Brienne was the one to kiss him now, she understood. ‘Jealous,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘I love you, Jaime,’ she whispered. ‘I love you too,’ her knight answered with certainty in his voice.

Brienne wanted to pull him closer. She wanted to whisper ‘stay,’ but she didn’t. Instead she stretched her long limbs and detangled herself from Jaime’s embrace. Dusk was setting, to Brienne’s horror. ‘We’ve done absolutely nothing today,’ she said in contempt of herself. ‘I disagree,’ Jaime said, his voice peppered with humour now. ‘Hungry?’ he asked. Brienne bit her lip and nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry it's been almost a month since I last updated! I just started a new job and I've been a bit busy in my head. Anyway, here's a new chapter and I'm trying to work on the next one when I can...

Before the week had ended the troops were on their way to Dragonstone, and the Queen and her small council were on their way to King’s Landing. Tyrion and Jaime had said their goodbye’s – just in case. The youngest Lannister even sought out Brienne on her own. Their conversation had been surprising to her.

              It was just after dinner, Jaime was spending some time with young squires – he liked overseeing their training – Brienne was alone in her chambers, the fire roaring pleasantly. She hadn’t been alone in a while, still her thoughts were with Jaime. Every night since _that_ night, they had made love, sometimes more than once. She wondered if it would always stay that way, she doubted it. At some point they would have to start living their lives again. Sometimes it was slow, sensual, and lasted hours. At other times, it was fast, and needy. When it was like that, Brienne felt unsure after, because she understood that it came from a place of self-hatred that was still so strong in him. All she wanted was to hold him, to keep him together, to keep him close to her. But she felt the need for distance radiating from him. It scared her.

              A knock at her door took her out of her reverie, ‘come in,’ she said, thinking it was Jaime. When she saw it was Tyrion she got up from her chair. ‘Tyrion,’ she said surprised. ‘Jaime’s not here, I think he’s with the squires.’ ‘I’m not here for my brother,’ the youngest Lannister answered as he climbed onto the other chair. ‘Can I help you with anything?’ Brienne asked uncertainly. ‘Well, I was hoping to talk to you before I leave for King’s Landing.’ Brienne stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

              ‘I would ask of you that you look out for my brother, Ser,’ Tyrion said finally. ‘I fear he is in a vulnerable position, and I wouldn’t want him to do something regrettable.’ Brienne frowned. ‘Like what?’ ‘Like, run off to the South to protect that diabolical sister of ours.’

              Brienne sighed. ‘You don’t look surprised,’ Tyrion remarked. Brienne shook her head. ‘I have been worried for him. He seems… conflicted, pained even at times. And I understand why, but I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to keep him here, with me.’ Tyrion smiled kindly. ‘Thank you, Brienne. Despite my brother’s confliction he _does_ seem happy with you. _Truly_ happy.’

              ‘You don’t seem surprised about our… connection,’ Brienne said, blushing a little. She had expected mockery, not this kind, soft-spoken man. ‘You will find that although I am not a tall man, my eyes are in peak condition,’ he joked. ‘What do you mean?’ Brienne asked. ‘Well, I got my suspicion of my brother’s tie to you when he all but exploded out of his chair when you entered the room, the night of the battle. And then those suspicions rose when I noticed his extreme jealousy at Tormund Giantbane’s attentions to you. And finally all was confirmed when he knighted you.’

              ‘Was he always a jealous man?’ Brienne asked. She was genuinely curious. Once, after their love-making, Jaime had asked her about Renly, and Tormund, and about all the men her father had wanted her to marry. It had been hard not to laugh at him, the only thought that kept her from doing so, was the thought that Jaime’s jealousy came from his want for her, but also from the betrayals he had suffered from his former lover.

              He had asked her how she had come to fall for Renly Baratheon. He had murmured the question against her hair, seeming almost embarrassed of his asking her. ‘Because he saved me from being mocked. He danced with me, not to make a mockery of me, but rather to make a point to all those who did.’ ‘But were you aware of his inclinations?’ ‘Not as a young girl. But I am no fool, Jaime,’ she answered, as she raked her fingers lazily through his chest-hair. ‘Were you very heart-broken?’ he asked. Brienne sighed, exasperated. ‘Would you like me to be?’ ‘No,’ Jaime answered petulantly. ‘I want you to tell me you’ve never loved any man as you love me. I want you to tell me that none of them ever meant anything to you. I want you to tell me you will always be mine, and mine alone.’ The last sentence had come out as nothing short of a growl. ‘You sound quite jealous,’ Brienne whispered, as she had that first night. She looked up from his chest and kissed his lips deeply. ‘I have never loved a man like I love you.’ She kissed him again. ‘I will always be yours, and yours alone.’ ‘What about them not meaning anything to you?’ Brienne swatted at his chest. ‘Shut up.’

              Tyrion chuckled at her question. ‘I am not sure whether I would call it jealousy. I think it is more akin to impatience, or an inability to “no” for an answer.’ Brienne frowned. ‘My brother is rather used to getting what he wants,’ Tyrion explained. ‘It’s not his fault, he is too handsome, which has deprived him off the experience of rejection. That is, until he lost his hand.’ His answer made the knight chuckle.

              Tyrion got down from his chair. ‘It is time for me to go and meet my dear sister. Show my brother what love really is, make him try, make him work for it.’ He looked at Brienne, his mismatched eyes soft, but earnest. ‘Keep him safe.’


	8. Chapter 8

After the army and the delegation left, Brienne and Jaime kept busy training those who needed training. Brienne was delighted to see more girls on the training grounds, and Podrick had improved so much since they had been able to train more regularly. He was even training some of the younger children himself. At times Brienne felt overwhelmed with a feeling of happiness, of belonging. It was strange to her, but she had never felt more content. She wished her father could see her here, but he was safer on Tarth. Brienne wondered what he would think of her union with Jaime. Would he scold her for falling for the Kingslayer? Some days after the battle, and after _that night_ , she had send him a letter to let him know of her survival. She told him about her feelings during the battle, about how much respect and acknowledgement she found in Winterfell. However, she had failed to mention Jaime. Her father knew little about Brienne’s journey after she left Tarth to serve Renly, there had been little time to communicate with him, until now. Selwyn the Evenstar did not know everything Brienne had gone through with Jaime Lannister. She knew that some word of her tidings would have reached him. He undoubtedly knew all the bad things that had happened. He had probably heard of Jaime’s disdain towards her, or how he had initially left her at Harrenhal. But had he heard how he had come back for her? Had he heard that he armed and armoured her? Had he heard how Jaime Lannister listened to his daughter Brienne, how he seemed to value her opinion? Even when at first they had actively disliked each other. Brienne was sure Selwyn did not know any of that. He wouldn’t understand. He would call her a fool, to fall for such a man. As much as her father loved her, Brienne knew that he was likely to tell her she was an idiot for ever thinking that one of the most celebrated (and hated) knights in the Seven Kingdoms could love her. Brienne could not face that kind of scolding from her father. She was certain that Jaime loved her! He had said the words. She could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he spoke and listened.  However, at the same time Tyrion Lannister’s words kept nagging at the back of her mind: ‘I wouldn’t want him to do something regrettable…’

Sometimes Brienne would wake in the middle of the night, feeling panicked. She would frantically feel around, looking for Jaime. So far, she had always found him, but somehow she felt that one night she might not. Whenever she would wake like that, Brienne would burrow herself against Jaime’s calming, warm presence. She would hold him tight, she would keep him close. Unfailingly Jaime would wrap himself around her in answer, even when he was in deep sleep. Still, Brienne waited anxiously for news from the capital, news that would break her Jaime and turn him back into Cersei’s Jaime.

 

* * *

 

 

Brienne felt restless. It was still too early for breakfast, yet she couldn’t fall back to sleep. Perhaps a bath in Winterfell’s hot springs would calm her nerves. As quietly as possible she rolled out of bed, trying not to disturb Jaime’s seemingly deep sleep. However, as she almost got to the door his sleepy voice asked: ‘Where are you off to at this time?’ Jaime sat up groggily, his eyes struggling to see her in the dark. ‘I couldn’t sleep anymore. I am going to the hot springs to calm my nerves,’ Brienne answered in a whisper. ‘I’ll join you,’ Jaime answered. He stumbled out of bed and threw on some clothes.

              The outside air was freezing, Jaime immediately started shivering, still being sleepy. He looked so soft to Brienne, his hair all mussed, his eyes still half closed. Thankfully the springs were close to their chambers. Soon they stood in the damp, warm air that filled the cave-like area in which a long time ago Brandon the Builder had created large bath-like structures, in which the hot springs naturally flowed. ‘It’s quite amazing that these springs are what keep the Great Keep warm,’ Jaime remarked as he started taking off his clothes. It was dark, the only light coming from a single torch. Still, Brienne could see Jaime well enough. She smiled to herself. ‘What is it?’ Jaime asked, humour in his voice. ‘I just thought of Harrenhal,’ she answered.

‘And the thought of that cursed place made you smile?’ ‘No, not the place. Just remembering that I thought you looked half a dead-man, half a god, when you walked into that room.’ Jaime chuckled. ‘You thought I looked like a god, did you? I just remember feeling like I was dying, and then somehow bearing my soul to the most insufferable wench on earth.’ Brienne scoffed as she lowered herself into the hot water. ‘I did say you looked half dead, too.’

‘Well, now that we’re talking about looking god-like, I must admit to you that in my delirious state I may have gotten hard when you got up out of the water all indignant,’ Jaime said, looking away. ‘What?!’ Brienne exclaimed. ‘You were dying, and you got hard from seeing me naked? I’m glad I didn’t know then.’  She wondered at Jaime’s confession. Back then Jaime was still a disgusting Oathbreaker, a Kingslayer to her. She hated him for what she had heard about him, and the way he treated her. Yet somehow his body had responded to her naked form. It made her strangely proud. Although she knew she would have been disgusted to know it back then. ‘Trust me, the sensation was involuntary,’ Jaime said. ‘That Jaime did not want you in that way. Or perhaps I did, and my body was faster to understand than my mind.’ He winked playfully at Brienne and inched closer to her in the water. ‘Regardless, I don’t think that Jaime would have been worthy of you anyway. If I even am now.’

They now sat comfortably side by side in the pool, their bodies touching in a familiar way. ‘What do you mean when you say _that Jaime_ ,’ Brienne asked. ‘I mean the Jaime I was, before you,’ her Green-eyed Knight answered as he looked up at her lovingly. ‘That Jaime was proud, quick to anger, thoughtless. He, or I, hated you because you are so stubbornly loyal, and good. I tried so hard to convince myself that I hated you because you were an ugly wench – which was my first mistake -,’ he kissed her deeply. ‘I convinced myself that I hated you because you were pig-headed, and a woman trying to be a man. But honestly, I hated you because you succeeded at being what I have always wanted, but failed to be: a true knight.’ Brienne moved to straddle Jaime and wove her hands through Jaime’s no-longer-golden hair. ‘You _are_ a true knight, Jaime.’ She kissed him. ‘Perhaps,’ Jaime said quietly. ‘But if I am, it is only because you showed me the way. I feel like you rein in my bad parts, the part that is quick to anger, and the part that thought I was above everyone else, the part that loves –‘ Jaime suddenly stopped and tried to push Brienne away, but she held her place in his lap. ‘No,’ she said firmly. She took Jaime’s face in her hands. ‘Please don’t pull away from me,’ she pleaded. ‘I love you. _All of you_. I know that you love her, and I know that there is a part of you that feels like you deserve only what she gives you. But you don’t. You have told me enough about your relationship with her to let me know that she treated you like a commodity, like you were someone to be used whenever she needed you. And in your turn you seem to still feel some pull towards her because you think you deserve her kind of selfish love as some form of punishment.’ Jaime tried to look away. There was something in his stunningly green eyes. Was it anger? Disgust? And aimed at who?

‘At times I wake up, and I fear you are gone,’ Brienne finally confessed. ‘You are _my Jaime_.’ She kissed him softly. ‘I never used to think I was worthy of such love as you have shown me. I had resigned to living a life on my own. But now that I have you, I will not let go.’ She held Jaime’s face between her strong hands. ‘I now need _you_ to believe that you deserve this too, if you feel even an ounce of the happiness I feel with you.’

Jaime sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I continue to be so conflicted. You don’t deserve that.’ ‘Then make up your mind,’ Brienne said softly, after which she kissed her knight again. He kissed her back more eagerly, and Brienne smiled against his mouth as she felt what she thought was Jaime making up his mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a tiny chapter, I know. But in order for things to flow nicely, this was necessary. The next chapter, which will hopefully be up within this week, will be the story so far, but from Jaime's perspective. Then it will head into the final parts :)

Later that day, Brienne had a meeting with Lady Sansa. She said her goodbye to Jaime as he made his way to the training grounds. However, as Brienne started making her way to Lady Sansa’s chambers the lady’s voice called her from the door to the Maester’s Turret: ‘Ser Brienne.’ Brienne made her way over to her lady. ‘I was just on my way to find you.’ ‘Well,’ Sansa answered gravely, ‘we have news from the South.’

              As Sansa finished telling Brienne about the horrors that befell the Queen’s forces at sea, and then on land just outside the borders of the city, Jaime approached them. ‘What happened?’ he asked uncertainly. Sansa met Brienne’s eyes and silently conveyed that Brienne ought to be the one to tell Jaime. She nodded. Brienne tried to make her voice as matter-of-factly as possible, to make it as soft as possible. ‘Euron Greyjoy ambushed Queen Daenerys’s fleet. One of the dragons was killed, several ships destroyed, Missandei captured.’ With every word, she saw the cold horror dawn on Jaime’s haggard looking face. ‘I always wanted to be there when they execute your sister,’ Lady Sansa told Jaime coldly. ‘It seems like I won’t get the chance.’ She strutted away and Brienne stared after her, wondering at the cruelty of her words, and what they would mean to Jaime.

Her head started pounding.

_Don’t Leave Me_


End file.
